


Crossing Over

by CaseyM



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:23:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyM/pseuds/CaseyM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Posted before, but I'm changing my name. It's complicated. </p>
<p>Special Agent Nicholas Donnelly is dead. On the other side, Nathan Ingram gives him what his heart desires - the truth about the Man in the Suit. And then he gives him what his body desires as well. But their romp is interrupted by the arrival of the Man himself. Reese isn't dead; he's unconscious and a captive of Kara Stanton. Whatever he and Donnelly say or do, John won't remember it when he returns to his body. And Nick won't be able to help him once he's gone back. But John has a very specific -- and kinky -- idea how he wants to spend their limited time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing Over

Special Agent Nicholas Donnelly opened his eyes and squinted up at the light. It was very bright. He closed his eyes again. He could still see the light through his eyelids.  It was warm here. He’d been cold a minute ago, but it was warm now.

The urgent voice on the phone. The headlights coming at him. The impact, the crunching sound, the world rolling over and over and everything inside the car trying to tear his body to shreds …

He opened his eyes and looked at the bright light again.

A hospital? That seemed like it should be right, but he knew it was wrong.

He tried to sit up. “Easy,” a man’s voice said. It was warm, too, rich and baritone. “You’ll do better if you just rest for another minute.”

Donnelly tried to twist his head to see the source of the voice. Even that motion caused waves of dizziness to slam over him. He seriously thought he might vomit. He closed his eyes again. The feeling subsided. “Who … where …”

“Shhh. Easy. You’re safe.” The voice grew closer. “Nothing’s going to hurt you here. There’s no hurry. Just takes a few minutes. You’re fine.”

Donnelly opened his eyes again. The man had moved next to him. He had friendly blue eyes and lush blond hair, a little long, brushed to one side. “You’re … you’re Nathan Ingram.”

“Yes.” The man put his hand on Donnelly’s arm, not restraining him, just comforting.

“You’re dead.”

He grinned, the famous, friendly Ingram grin that had been on the cover of hundreds of magazines. “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m … dead?”

“You are.”

Donnelly struggled to sit up. Ingram helped him, one hand on his arm, the other behind his back. He stayed close, and the agent couldn’t help noticing how good he smelled, how warm his body was. How strong. It had been a long time …

When he was upright, Donnelly looked around. He was sitting in the grass in the park. He scanned the skyline. Not any park. Central Park. It was a beautiful spring afternoon.

He hadn’t been anywhere near the park when the truck hit them. And it had been night. And winter.

“How …?” he muttered.

“Easy,” Ingram said again. “It’s a big adjustment. Give yourself time.” He was crouching next to him in the grass. His arms were still partly around Donnelly.

**_I never want to move away from him. I don’t know this man, but I want to be next to him …_ **

Ingram chuckled as if he knew what he was thinking. “Think you can stand up now?”

The world had mostly stopped swimming. Donnelly nodded, and Nathan helped him to his feet. He stayed right beside him, steadying him. _He’s bouncing back faster than most of them. Tough guy. I knew I liked him._

Donnelly looked at him. He was quite sure that hadn’t been his own thought.

Ingram grinned at him again. “There you go. Come on.” He guided him toward the bench. Their bodies stayed close. Donnelly found himself leaning into the man more than he really needed to. **_Stay close, stay close, oh please stay close._**

_ I’m not going anywhere. _

Donnelly pulled himself up away from the man. “You know what I’m thinking.”

_And you know what I’m thinking._ Ingram smirked gently, shrugged. “That’s how it is here. Not many secrets. It’s okay.”

**_But then you know I …_ **

Nathan’s grin broadened. “I know. I like it. But first things first, okay? Do you remember how you got here?”

“The Man in the Suit,” Donnelly muttered. “I had him. I finally had him. Damn it, I had him! And then this truck hit us … must have been one of his colleagues …” He shook his head. “No. The way they hit us, they could have killed all of us. And there was this …” He paused, looked at Ingram. The billionaire — was he still a billionaire here, wherever here was?—was watching him patiently. “This woman. She had heels on. This woman, she just walked up to the SUV and she … she shot me. She fucking shot me! I was pinned in the truck and she just … she just …”

Suddenly he was shaking, cold, terrified. And just as suddenly Ingram’s arms were around him. The arms were thick, warm, strong. Donnelly knew he was safe there. Safe against Ingram’s chest. Breathing his scent, lost in the comfort of his chest. **_Oh, please, just stay with me._**

_ I’m not going anywhere, Nick. I’m right here and I won’t leave you. _

Donnelly gathered himself, pulled away again. “That’s really disturbing.”

“Sorry.” The gentle grin returned to Ingram’s face. “I know it takes a while to get used to it. Everything here does. That’s why I’m here.”

“But … why _are_ you here?” Donnelly asked. “I mean, I expected … someone I knew. My father, maybe.”

Ingram snorted. “You didn’t really expect _him_ to be here, did you? And if he was, he’d be the last one you wanted to see.”

**_He really does know everything. Because no one else knows about that_**. “I … no. But my grandmother, the guys from my unit … I didn’t expect _you_. I don’t even know you.”

Ingram sat down on the bench, put his arm along the back, crossed one leg over the other at the knee. He was the picture of openness and confidence. “Because you wanted me.”

**_No, but I damn sure want you now that I’ve met you._** Donnelly swore under his voice. He couldn’t seem to stop his thoughts from going there. “I wanted you?”

“I’m the one who can tell you what you want to know.”

“You can.”

“Yes.”

“You can tell me about the Man in the Suit?”

“Yes.”

**_Bullshit._ **

_ True story, bro. _

“Why would you tell me?”

Ingram gestured broadly. “Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you get it, Nick? It doesn’t make any difference now. You’re dead. Everything you want to know, you can know.”

Donnelly sat down next to him on the bench. “Who was the psycho with the gun?”

“Kara Stanton,” Ingram answered at once. “She used to be John’s partner in the CIA.”

“John was CIA. I figured that, but I couldn’t ever prove it.”

Ingram sighed patiently. “There’s an easier way to do this. But focus on the woman right now. You need to get past her.”

“She shot me.” And suddenly his thought spun out of control. **_Fucking psycho bitch fucking shot me while I was trapped unarmed fucking arrogant fucking bitch and she took him, she took my Man the fucking crazy bitch kill her I’m going to fucking kill her …_**

“There you go,” Nathan said encouragingly. “Let it go.”

Donnelly bounced to his feet. “Fucking whore, I just want to …”

“Heavy bag?”

“What?”

“You need to work it out. Heavy bag.” Nathan rolled to his feet. He was grace in motion, the most elegant man Donnelly had ever seen. The Man in the Suit was power in motion, but this man was elegance. He gestured.

Donnelly turned. There was a jungle gym there — he was certain it hadn’t been there before — with a heavy bag suspended from it. Ingram moved behind him and slipped Donnelly’s jacket off. “Go to it.”

“I … but …” Donnelly looked at his bare hands. If he hit the bag like he wanted to, he’d tear them to shreds. **_Where the hell did the bag come from?_**

“The psycho bitch who shot you,” Ingram prompted gently.

Rage filled Donnelly’s mind. He was sure Ingram could hear everything he was thinking, but he couldn’t stop. It wouldn’t even form coherent words any more. It was just rage and obscenity. He stepped closer and swung at the bag. His knuckled split on the first hit. The thud of contact jarred all the way up his arm. **_That arm should be useless. I know I dislocated that shoulder when the SVU rolled over … fucking bitch, I had him and you took him and you didn’t even care if you got him alive you fucking crazy bitch._** He swung again, split the knuckles on the other hand. He kept swinging. His blood stained the bag. He didn’t care. He held the crazy woman with the gun in his mind, and he punched the bag until he was utterly exhausted. And he kept punching, until the bag finally ripped open and dumped all its sawdust at his feet.

His sagged, his arms limp at his sides, his hands bleeding into the soft grass.

And Nathan’s arm was around is shoulders again. “Better?” he asked softly, in his ear.

His voice sent a thrill through Donnelly’s exhausted body. “Better and worse.”

Ingram took Donnelly’s right hand in his. He turned it over and looked at the bleeding knuckles. Threads of skin hung off the sides. It looked like so much ground beef, but it didn’t hurt. Then he lifted the wounded hand to his lips.

“Don’t …” Donnelly began.

_ I won’t hurt you. _

**_They’re dirty, they’re broken…_ **

_They’re beautiful._ Ingram pressed his beautiful lips against the broken skin. His tongue touched the blood. When he lifted his head away, the knuckles were whole again.

Donnelly turned his hand over, studying it in awe. “You healed me.”

Ingram smiled. “Not nearly as miraculous on this side as it is over there. Over here, you just have to think about something and it’s true.”

“Oh, bullshit.” **_God, he has a beautiful smile_**.

Nathan cocked his head to one side. “You worked up a pretty good sweat. Want a shower?”

Donnelly became aware suddenly that he was standing in his shirt sleeves, sweating like a racehorse, in front of the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. **_Fuck_**.

_ Bet I can make you sweat like that without pissing you off. _

Donnelly raised his eyes to him. **_Me?_**

_ I’d damn sure like to try. _

**_Fuck. I’m game. Go for it._ **

Nathan grinned again. _Maybe in a bit. Still some preliminaries to cover._

**_Me? Really?_ **

“Shower,” Ingram said aloud. “Two ways to do that. One, the old fashioned way. We go somewhere, you stand under the hot water, you let the world wash away.”

“That sounds good.”

“The other way? Just wish it so.”

“Just … what?”

Ingram waved gently. Suddenly Donnelly found himself clean and dry, refreshed, and fully dressed in a clean suit. He touched his hair. It was slightly damp. His other hand, he noted, had also healed. He grinned, bewildered. “How did you _do_ that?”

Nathan twinkled at him. “I figured you had a great smile, too. Nice to see it finally. ” _I want to make you smile like that a hundred times a day. And night._

**_Me?_** Donnelly thought again. ** _Really?_**

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

Donnelly shook his head. He couldn’t believe this man was flirting with him. He couldn’t believe how much he liked it. It had been years since a man had caught his attention this way. **_Attention, my ass. He’s caught my dead-on lust. Who’d have thought being dead would make me so freaking horny?_**

_ It’s a coping device. Don’t worry about it. I won’t take advantage of you. _

**_Why the fuck not?_ **

_ Well, when you put it that way …  _

“Your Man in the Suit,” Ingram said gently. “You want to know about him still?”

“Yes. Please. Everything you know about him.”

Nathan nodded. “What will you give me if I tell you?” he teased gently.

“Anything you want,” Donnelly answered. He was a little surprised that he said it out loud, but what the hell, if the man could read his mind anyhow, what difference did it make? **_Any fucking thing you want._**

Ingram’s grin got broader. _What did I just say? I won’t take advantage of you._ “One kiss. I’ll tell you everything you want to know for one kiss.”

“Fine,” Donnelly agreed at once.

Nathan looked around. “Not here.”

“Where do you want to go?” **_Anywhere, anywhere._**

Ingram took his hand. His skin was warm, dry. “Here.”

Donnelly felt the world spin again. When it settled, he was in the middle of a huge loft apartment. The ceiling was twenty feet high, and there was a book case against one wall that went all the way up. Hardwood floors, exposed bricks. It was very rich, leather and hardwood, masculine. Almost, but not quite, overpowering.

“Drink?” Ingram offered.

“How did you do that?”

Nathan sighed patiently and put a rock glass in his hand. “Anything you want, Donnelly. Think it and it’s yours. Or you’re there. Or whatever. You create your own reality.”

“But … so you’re not real?”

“Well, no. And yes. I think I’m real, but maybe I’m not. Maybe you created me, as part of your reality.  Although I don’t know why you would, because up until a few minutes ago you had no idea what I had to do with your guy. Or, hell, maybe I created you. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter.”

 “It doesn’t?”

“I think I’m here. You think I’m here. What else do we need?” He gestured. “Drink.”

Donnelly sipped the drink. It was ridiculously good Irish whiskey. The kind he couldn’t afford before he was dead. Smooth as glass, and it lit up on the way down.

Ingram was watching his face. “It can be anything you want, you know. Good Irish or grape Kool-Aid. It’s your choice.”

“This is fine,” Donnelly answered. He drank again. “Can we get drunk?”

“If you want. Drunk on one sip, or drink all night and stay sober as a judge.”

“Either way, no hangover?” Donnelly guessed.

“Only if you want one.” Nathan shrugged. “Some people do.”

“So … anything. Anything that I want I can just make … appear?”

_Now he’s got it._ “Or disappear.”

“Even you?”

_Shit. That’s a good damn question_. “I don’t know. I mean, you could just tell me to get lost, that would work. But make me disappear — well, give it a try.”

“No.” **_Because maybe I can. And maybe you won’t come back._**

_ I’ll come back any time you want me to. _

“You don’t even know me,” Donnelly said.

“I know more than you think. I’ve been watching you, for as long as you’ve been looking for your Man.”

“You can watch them? The … living?”

“Yes. But I don’t advise it. Especially at first.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t change anything. You can’t help them, or knock their heads together when they need it. You can just watch.” He looked away. “It hurts.”

“And you were watching the Man in the Suit?”

Ingram nodded.

“Why?”

_ Because Harold loves him. _

**_Who’s Harold?_ **

Ingram took a deep breath. “Sit down.” He gestured to the big leather couch. “No, over here, in the middle. We need to be close.”

**_Still not having a problem with that. Why the hell does my dead body think I’m back in college?_ **

Nathan smiled. “You can be, you know. When I said you can change anything? You can change yourself. Anything. Less wrinkles, more hair. Be taller, shorter. Manscaping. Whatever.”

**_Female?_ **

_Sure._ “But I advise you take that slow, too. The whole appearance thing. The first time I looked in the mirror and 21-year-old Nathan looked back I about shit myself.”

Donnelly nodded. “I bet.”

“Time doesn’t mean anything here. So _take_ your time, Nick. Let yourself get acclimated. You can do anything you want, whenever you want. As often as you want. There’s no need to rush. To make yourself uncomfortable, with anything. Understand?” The man sat down on the couch next to him, close.

**_You have the most beautiful mouth._** Donnelly shook his head. “Okay.”

Ingram’s cheeks went a little pink. “And another thing. Any change you make, you can change it back. Just by wanting it back the way it was.”

“Tell me about the Man.”

“No. I won’t tell you.” He raised a hand to quiet Donnelly’s protest. Then he took the glass out of his hand and put it on the coffee table next to his own. “Trust me.” He reached up and brushed his fingers over Donnelly’s temple. “Here.”

It was like being hit with a brick. A big brick, thrown from a very high place, hitting him directly in the forehead. It didn’t hurt. Donnelly had some notion it should hurt. It didn’t. But his mind was suddenly very full of —everything. Everything Ingram knew about the Man in the Suit, about Carter, about the Machine, about Harold …

“The … Machine?” he mouthed silently, because he had no words.

“Close your eyes,” Nathan said quietly. “It will help.”

Donnelly did so. He felt the other man shift beside him, draw him back against his chest. He didn’t resist. Nathan’s arms went around him from behind, held him. Warm, safe, strong. **_I’m safe here. Nothing can hurt me._**

_ Damn straight. I’m right here. Let go. You know everything now. Just let yourself know what you know. _

Donnelly tried. It was hard; his mind kept grasping at details, turning them over in anger or surprise. So many things made sense now. So many things didn’t. And the more he examined his new knowledge, the more one thing became brutally clear.

**_I was wrong._ **

_ Shhh, shhh … _

**_I was so fucking wrong!_ **

“Actually,” Nathan said against his ear, “you were mostly right. They broke the law right and left. You had everything right but the motives.”

“But they were trying to _help_ people.”

“You couldn’t have known that.”

“I should have known that!” Donnelly opened his eyes and sat bolt upright. “I never even considered that there were any other motives at play. I was so sure I knew … and I was wrong!”

Ingram put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s done now.”

“They could be dying. John, Carter. That psycho bitch could be killing them right now …”

“If she is, we’ll have them over for drinks tonight.”

“It’s not fucking funny!” Donnelly stood up. He put his hand on his forehead. “Damn it, I was so wrong and I may have gotten them both killed … she tried to tell me. Carter tried to tell me that he was a good man and I didn’t believe her.”

“Look again,” Nathan said mildly. “He’s no saint.”

“But he’s trying … Jesus Christ. He’s Jean Valjean.”

This time there wasn’t any vertigo. He was just there, outside, in the wind, and from where he stood it was a long, long way down. Below was a rain-swollen river, muddy and with streaks of red, blood from the rebels upstream, and he could see his own very shiny black boots, the toes over the edge of the bridge railing he stood …

**_I’m in the fucking movie. I’m fucking Javert_**. Panic washed over him.  “Nathan!” he shouted hopelessly.

The billionaire was there, leaning against the railing next to Donnelly’s shiny boots. He was calm, amused. “Told you to go slow.”

Donnelly gasped for air. He was afraid to move, afraid he’d fall it he tried to back off the rail. The water was so far down. He could remember the sound from the movie, Javert’s body breaking on the stones below. “What happens if I fall?”

“I dunno, Nick.”

**_Asshole._ **

_Aw, you’re so sweet._ Ingram grinned, then climbed onto the rail next to him. “I imagine you’ll end up back where you started. Wanna find out?”

“What? No!”

“Ah, c’mon.”

Before he could react, Ingram grabbed his arm and jumped.

They fell a long way. They landed with a gentle thump — back on Ingram’s leather couch.

_ Told you so. _

**_You fucking sadistic bastard._ **

_ Yeah. Wanna go again? _

Donnelly took a deep breath – and then laughed out loud. “Maybe later.” His heart was pounding, but it was exhilarating rather than terrifying. “We can’t die.”

“We’re already dead.” Nathan chuckled. “Think of all the trouble you can get into now.”

“No consequences.”

“None at all.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

But Donnelly’s thoughts snapped around again. “Carter. John. And your Harold. They’re in danger.”

Ingram shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do for them.”

The despair that seized Donnelly was as deep as the thrill had been a moment before.

_ But the worst that can happen to them is that they end up here like us. _

Which made a certain sense to Donnelly, but he didn’t like it. **_Alive is still better._**

“Agreed,” Ingram conceded. He looked toward the big windows, at the starlit night — hadn’t it been afternoon? — and a look of great sadness darkened his eyes.

It hurt Donnelly to see his easy smile vanish. “I still owe you a kiss,” he said quietly.

Nathan smiled tightly, through his grief. “I won’t hold you to that.”

Donnelly didn’t argue. He simply leaned forward and pressed his lips against Ingram’s. The billionaire’s hands came up, touched his shoulders lightly. Donnelly slid his own hand onto the man’s chest. They shifted a little; their lips fit together better, and then Nathan’s parted and his tongue darted out, but still so lightly, so gently.

**_Hold me to it_** , Donnelly urged.

_ You’re upset. You’re still finding your way around. _

**_I want to start finding my way around right here, with you._ **

Donnelly put his other hand on Ingram’s ribs and pulled him closer. He parted his lips, forced his tongue between the other man’s teeth. Claimed his mouth as his own.

_ You should take this slow. I feel like I’m pressuring you. _

**_You’re not pressuring me. And even if you were, I don’t give a fuck._ **

A laugh ran through Ingram’s mind. It tingled like quicksilver. _Give a fuck or take one. It’s your call._

**_Now you’re talking._ **

_Nah_ , Ingram thought back. _Much too well-bred to talk with my mouth full._

Donnelly groaned, and it reverberated through their connection as the chuckle had, but in a different key. **_Puns, Nathan? Really?_**

_Not a pun._ Ingram shifted his head again and his own tongue met Donnelly’s, fought for dominance _. Just wishful thinking._

**_Wishes come true here._ **

_ Damn straight. _

Donnelly shifted. His pants were suddenly way too tight. **_Just about._**

Ingram laughed out loud. His hands moved then, tugging at Donnelly’s tie, pushing his jacket off. Donnelly was moving, too. It was clumsy, trying to undress the man without taking his lips off him. The kiss broke finally, mostly because they both needed to breathe, but Donnelly slid his lips down Ingram’s neck, tasted the salt on his warm skin. He seemed almost feverish. **_I could melt against this skin._**

He got Ingram’s jacket off, and his tie, but the buttons of his shirt were damned small and difficult. Some kind of custom tailoring, probably. He got the one at his neck open, but the next one was impossible. His hands were trembling, and he couldn’t stop kissing the man; every bit of skin he uncovered seemed to demand tasting and nibbling …

“There’s an easier way to do this, you know,” Nathan groaned.

“Sure.” Donnelly grabbed both sides of the shirt and simply ripped. Buttons flew, rattled onto the hard floor like a miniature rainstorm. He didn’t care. He finally managed to draw away from him, just to look. Beneath the shirt, Ingram’s broad chest was covered with fine golden fur. He was tanned, muscled. Beautiful. “My God, Nathan …”

“What the hell is this thing?” Ingram returned. He sounded annoyed.

“Hmmm?” Donnelly was busy running his hands over Nathan’s glorious pecs. He brushed his fingertip over one dark brown nipple, watched with fascination as it rose to a hard peak.

“This.” He tugged at something at Donnelly’s shoulder. “What the hell is this?”

Donnelly looked down. “Vest,” he said simply. Reluctantly, he drew his own hands back. “Hang on, I’ll …”

“Oh, fuck that,” Ingram snapped. “We’re doing this my way.”

“What’s your …”

Then he stopped, because they were both suddenly completely naked.

The agent froze in shock. He’d been heading for this, of course. Frantic to get Ingram’s clothes off. But the lack of transition threw him off his game. He was suddenly chilled, and his erection faded.

“Sorry,” Nathan said. “Should have taken that a little slower.” He didn’t sound particularly remorseful. His put his hand on Donnelly’s hip, the other on his thigh. The heat of his touch was enough to chase the chill away. He leaned forward and their lips met again.

**_Can we get dressed that fast, too?_ **

Ingram hesitated. _Do you want to be dressed?_

**_No. Just kinda wishing I could have done that when I was seventeen._ **

There was a memory there, one that made Donnelly blush and Ingram laugh. After a second Donnelly laughed, too.

The billionaire’s hand slid higher, came to rest just at the very top of Donnelly’s thigh. _Your life about ended right there, didn’t you? Was she worth it?_

**_I married her. Eventually._ **

_ Come to regret it? _

**_Only because she did._ **

_I hear that._ Donnelly got a flash of another woman. Olivia. The screaming, and then the cold silence. He knew it well.

His erection ached for attention, for touch. He desperately wished that hand on his thigh would move closer. His own hands were all over Ingram’s torso, on his chest, his back, his arms. Tickling along his ribs, chasing up his spine. Brushing the nipples swiftly, darting away as the man gasped. Running down to his hips, but Ingram was leaning too far forward for him to get more than a glimpse of that beautiful cock, much less get his own hands on it.

“Kind of a weird time to be thinking about our exes,” Donnelly panted.

Ingram grinned again. “Good sex always makes me think about my ex. Briefly.”

“You sure this is going to be good?”

Ingram glanced down between them, then back up, pure lust and fun in his eyes. “Damn sure.” He pushed at Donnelly’s shoulder.

Almost reluctantly, Donnelly lay back, let his head rest on the arm of the couch. Ingram grabbed his leg and put it behind his hip along the back of the couch, so that he was half-kneeling between Donnelly’s thighs. He was still sitting up, and Donnelly hated the distance between them. He wanted to touch him, to kiss him. But the look on the man’s face stopped him. Ingram was staring down at their two cocks, next to each other, erect, one towering up from golden hair, the other from dark, yet otherwise nearly identical. “Nathan …”

Ingram shook his head. “I don’t know what I want to do with you first,” he said softly. “So many possibilities.”

Donnelly’s cock strained upward even harder. The man’s gaze was like an impossibly light touch. He wanted more. Wanted real touch, firm touch. “You said time doesn’t matter here,” he managed to breathe. “Just pick one, and we’ll do everything else later.”

The blue eyes came up and met his. “I like the way you think.” Ingram slid forward along his body to kiss him again. It brought their chests together, and their cocks met in the tight space between them. Nathan rolled his hips gently, creating a sweet slow friction, as his tongue plundered Donnelly’s mouth again.

Donnelly moaned and dragged his nails up Ingram’s back. Every place that they touched was hot, excited. His balls twitched, and he could feel his cock just beginning to leak pre-cum. The moisture decreased the friction he craved and he moaned again. “More,” he managed to whisper. He slid one hand around Ingram’s hip and tried to get it into the space between their bodies, with the intent of rubbing their cocks together more firmly.

Ingram grabbed his wrist and held him. “Later,” he promised softly. He pushed the hand up, all the way over Donnelly’s head. Then he released it and broke their kiss. His lips trailed down Donnelly’s chin and throat, then detoured to lick his left nipple. As it rose in excitement, he caught it between his teeth, just hard enough to start to hurt, and flicked it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue. Donnelly arched his back, moaning again, biting his bottom lip. He brought his hand down, laced it through Ingram’s hair. It was like having a handful of silk. “Nathan …” he whispered.

“Shhhh,” Nathan answered against his chest. “Be easy. I’ve got you.” His teeth nipped at the skin over Donnelly’s ribs. Then his lips moved lower still, little soft kisses and sharp tiny bites, down his side to the crease where his thigh joined his body. Ingram’s tongue licked along that line, making Donnelly arch again, and this time cry out.

Ingram brushed his cheek against Donnelly’s aching cock. His skin was a little bristly, half a day’s worth of stubble, just enough to emphasize that he was a man. He turned his face and put his mouth on the side of the shaft, and Donnelly’s hips thrust upward, seeking, wanting.

Ingram’s hands were on his thighs again, hot, kneading. His thumbs brushed the sides of Donnelly’s balls and they jumped in response. He moved his mouth up and down the side of the cock, still licking and nipping, but avoiding the sensitive crown where pre-cum continued to flow. Donnelly thrashed, desperate for more, or less, but Ingram’s strong hands kept him pinned against the couch.

**_You’re fucking killing me._ **

_You’re already dead_. The quicksilver of laughter again. _And I’ll get to the fucking in a minute._

**_Promise?_ **

_ Such a patient man hunter, and such an impatient lover. _

**_Damn it, Ingram …_ **

“Shhhh,” Ingram said. He shifted his mouth again and took Donnelly’s cock between his lips, then all the way into his mouth in one smooth stroke. He sucked in as he pulled off slowly, and Donnelly cried out, on the edge of agony and bliss.

His hands laced through Nathan’s hair. He forced himself not to push him, to force him. But he couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting upward as the man worked his cock. Fast in, slow out, in a dead-steady rhythm that brought him right to the edge of orgasm without being quite fast enough to get him over. It was delicious. He wanted it to go on forever. And he desperately wanted to explode.

He hung there, in between, for as long as he could. He didn’t want to climax. He wanted to do so many other things with this beautiful man …

**_Nathan._ **

_ Come for me. _

**_Wait, I want …_ **

_ Stubborn man. Stop arguing and come for me! _

Ingram shifted his approach suddenly. He dragged his teeth along Donnelly’s shaft, and he sucked hard and he moved fast. Three more thrusts and Donnelly screamed as he came.

Ingram kept sucking, kept caressing his balls, until Donnelly was absolutely spent. Then, finally, he lifted his head. Their eyes met again. _You okay?_

Donnelly couldn’t put even a coherent thought together. He simply nodded.

“Good.” The grin came back to Ingram’s face. He sat up, moving between Donnelly’s legs. He rested one warm hand on top of his thigh again. The other slipped down over Donnelly’s balls, stroked over the little patch of sensitive skin behind them and then across his opening and up toward his spine. Then the direction reversed and he stroked downward, barely brushing, over and over until Donnelly groaned again in protest and desire.

Enough blood had returned to the agent’s brain to allow him a little independent thought. He let his left hand fall open. **_Wish I had a bottle of lube._** The bottle appeared in his hand. **_Yes. Getting the hang of this._**

Ingram shook his head, smiling. _Close, newbie._ His fingers, on the next pass, were slick with the lube already.

Donnelly shuddered, grinned. **_Of course. Suppose condoms are totally unnecessary, too?_**

_Not like you can catch a fatal disease any more._ Then the tip on Ingram’s finger was in his ass, and all coherent thought left again. His eyes rolled up in pleasure, and he had to close them for a moment. But he could feel Nathan watching him as the finger went deeper, twisted, turned. He wanted to watch him watching him. He opened his eyes, looked up into those warm China blues. This man had melted hearts all over the world with those eyes. That smile. Of all the men and women in the world, why would this man want _him_?

_Want you_. Ingram added another finger, Slowly, gently. Stretching him, opening him, the slick fingers easing in and out, a little further with each stroke. For Donnelly it was magnificent. But there was pain on Nathan’s beautiful face. His own arousal had reached the critical point. _Want you. Want you._

Donnelly arched his back, pressing himself against those fingers. The tips brushed against his prostate and he writhed. **_Take me, then._** **_Do it. Do it._**

_ Not yet. Soon.  _

The fingers moved again, trying to stretch him further. But Donnelly had had enough. “Now,” he said. “Do it now.”

“Soon …”

“Now, Nathan!”

The fingers disappeared and the head of Ingram’s cocked pressed against his opening. He hesitated there, still trying to go slow, to keep himself under control. But Donnelly could see the desperation in his face, the need. He thrust his hips hard, driving the cock half-way home in his ass. It stung, but only a little. Like spice, a little heat that made the meal sweeter.

Ingram groaned, trying to be still, trying to let him adjust. Donnelly surged toward him again, driving the cock home. He wrapped his legs around the man’s waist, held him as tightly as he could. His own erection rose between them, but he ignored his own arousal. **_Nathan, Nathan,_** he pleaded. **_Come on. I want this. I want you._**

Ingram gritted his teeth, still trying to be still. _We have time. Lots of time. We can take this slow …_

Donnelly grabbed his forearms. **_For fuck’s sake, Ingram, just fuck me already!_**

Nathan laughed and moved, finally, thrusting, withdrawing. He hit the sweet spot on every stroke, and Donnelly’s cock bobbed in rhythm with his thrusts. Ingram got one hand free and grasped it, stroked lightly. _Beautiful, you are beautiful …_

**_… can’t remember the last time I got hard again that fast … Oh, God, Nathan …_ **

_ … love being inside you, Nick … _

**_… love having you inside me …_ **

_  … want you inside me soon … _

**_… that yes God yes …_ **

The words vanished from both of their thoughts and there was only feeling, like the quicksilver laughter that had passed between them but bigger, deeper in tone. It encompassed both of them as their bodies slammed together, covered them as surely as the sweat that gleamed on their skin, and they shared it, adding to it, taking from it.

Ingram put one foot on the floor beside the couch. It gave him better leverage and he drove against Donnelly’s body with new force. Nick tightened his thighs against his hips and used them for leverage, driving himself against the delicious cock. When they couldn’t move any harder, when there was no more depth to be found, they moved faster. Ingram’s hand tightened on Donnelly’s erection, but he was too distracted to do anything but hold on. It didn’t matter; the motion of their bodies and the delicious thrusting within were enough to bring him to the edge of climax.

But he could wait, he could wait …

He watched Ingram’s face, contorted with desire so deep it had slipped into pain. He was hanging on the edge himself, holding himself back, making it last, too …

“Nnnnnnnnnathan …”

The billionaire took in a breath that sounded like a sob, and when he exhaled it was scream and he pounded once more and he came, shuddering. Donnelly came in his hand as the final stroke hit home.

Ingram collapsed forward, still inside him. Donnelly cradled his head against his chest, stroking his fingers through that gorgeous blond hair. They were both breathless, shuddering with aftershocks. Blissed out. Happy.

**_Happy._ **

_ Yes. God, yes. _

Donnelly ran his hand lower, massaging the back of Ingram’s neck. The man made a contented noise, like the purr of a very large cat. After a long time, Ingram murmured, “I could fuck you all night.”

“Okay,” Donnelly answered simply. And then, “You literally could, couldn’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“There’s no limit to erections, to orgasms. We could _literally_ do this all night.”

Ingram grinned against his chest. “We could literally do this for all _year_.”

Donnelly felt his heart speed up again — and his cock stir with interest. More notably, he felt Ingram’s cock, still deep in his ass, begin to stiffen again. The sensations ran through his whole body and he shuddered. As much as he desired this man, he wasn’t sure he was ready to go again yet. “Nathan …” **_Give me a couple minutes._**

_Sure._ Ingram moved back, drew his cock out of his body, then rested against him again. “Or we could put on tuxedoes and have drinks at the Intercontinental.” _Whatever you want, Nick._

**_Could we be in your bed?_ **

They were. Flat on their backs, side by side in the middle of an enormous bed.

In tuxedoes.

Donnelly looked down at himself, then over at Ingram. He laughed, and Nathan grinned in delight. And then Nick made them naked again.

_ Thought you wanted to catch your breath.  _

Donnelly rolled onto his side and ran one hand over Ingram’s chest again. The beautiful soft golden hair that covered him. The heat, the tan, the muscles. **_Catch my breath, see you, touch you._**

_Still like the way you think._ Nathan rolled toward him, reached his hands out.

“No,” Donnelly said. “Put your hands behind your head.”

Ingram rolled back obediently. “You gonna arrest me?” he teased.

“I’m sure I could come up with some handcuffs somewhere.” He leaned up on one elbow, took Ingram’s wrist and guided his hand up under the pillow. He repeated the process with the other hand, gently but insistently. “You said I should take my time.”

“I did.” Ingram grinned up from the pillow, his blue eyes sparkling, but he waited.

Donnelly stayed up on one elbow and let his eyes roam over the man. He was absolutely beautiful. Like a marble statue in a museum, but with bronze skin and a much bigger cock. He looked beyond that, to his long legs, his muscular thighs, his calves, his feet. Even his damn feet were beautiful. **_What in God’s name are you doing with me?_**

_ Loving the way you look at me, at the moment, but I have more active plans for later. _

“Nathan …” There weren’t any words, or even any thoughts. Donnelly put his hand on the golden chest again, reveling in the way it felt. The connection warmed him. He traced along Nathan’s collar bone, along his shoulder. Ran his flat palm over his pec and across his nipple. Down the center of his chest. He paused to feel the strong heartbeat beneath the skin. **_Funny, that. Why does your heart still beat?_**

_It beats for you,_ Nathan thought with a good-natured smirk.

Donnelly felt himself blush. He ran his hand lower, across the navel, and paused on the flat place beneath. Ingram was erect again, his cock standing proudly over him. **_A piece of art_** , Donnelly thought again. **_A sculpture by the finest artist in the world._** He turned his hand and took hold of the shaft firmly, feeling its firmness, its weight. Ingram gasped very softly. **_Beautiful. Every inch of you is beautiful._**

Nathan took a deep breath, purred again.

“So is this all we do here? Everybody just has all the sex they want, all the time?” He glanced up to meet Ingram’s eyes. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Honestly, for the first few weeks, that’s exactly what most of us do,” Ingram admitted. “After a while even this goes a little smooth. Then you can mix it up with anything else you want to do.”

“Anything.”

“Anything. Climb Mount Everest. And then jump off the top. Learn to juggle. Learn to speak Italian. Learn to shoe a horse. Anything, Nick. _Anything_ you want.”

Donnelly stroked the cock firmly, but slowly. He wanted to know it, to know what his new lover liked, what he didn’t. To study him, and then to please him. **_And if all I ever want is to be here with you?_**

_I’ll want you with me far longer than you want to be here._ “Nick, you are …” Then Ingram stopped, and his body stiffened.

“What is it?”

Ingram brought his hand down, grabbed Donnelly’s wrist. “Stop. Stop.” He sat up, suddenly brusque.

Donnelly sat up beside him, confused and contrite. “I did something wrong …”

“No, No.” Ingram grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him quickly. “No. But there’s someone you should see, and we have to go right now.”

“But you said … time doesn’t matter here …”

“It doesn’t, for us. But it does for him. His clock is still running. C’mon.”

They were on their feet, fully dressed, and back in the park. Donnelly shook his head and the vestiges of vertigo went away.

“Sorry,” Ingram said.

“It’s okay. What’s wrong? Why are we here?”

Ingram just pointed.

On a bench twenty yards away, the Man in the Suit sat alone, bent down, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Is he dead?” Donnelly asked, sick with regret all over again.

“No.” Ingram shook his head. “See that shimmer around him? He’s still living. He’s unconscious.”

“But …”

“When they wake him up, he’ll vanish from here. He’s stuck in real time. That’s why I had to bring you right now.”

“I can talk to him?”

“Yes. But whatever you say to him, he won’t remember it when he goes back.”

“What?”

“You can talk to him. Make your peace. But when he wakes up on the other side, he won’t remember anything that happened here. He won’t remember that he met you here. It’ll be gone.”

Donnelly nodded. “I want to talk to him anyhow.”

“I thought you would.”

“Thank you, Nathan.”

“I’ll be around, when you’re done.” Ingram put his hand on his arm. “Nick, listen. I wasn’t big on monogamy when I was alive. And I sure as hell don’t put any stock in it now.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Donnelly stared at him. “You can’t honestly think that _he_ wants anything to do with me that way.”

“Things are different here, Nick. You already know that. I’m just saying, if you get the shot, don’t worry about me.”

The agent shook his head. “I’m sure he wants to hit on me, but not the way you’re thinking.”

Nathan shrugged, grinned. “If you say so. See you back at the loft.”

And then he was gone.

 ***

Even sitting absolutely still, the Man in the Suit looked dangerous.

Donnelly stopped in front of him, six feet in front of the bench, and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “John?”

The Man flinched at his name, but didn’t more.

“I was wrong about you,” Donnelly continued after a moment. “And I’m sorry.”

John sighed heavily. Then he sat up slowly and glared at him. **_Reese_** , Donnelly suddenly knew. **_That wasn’t his name, but that was what he called himself. John Reese._**

It seemed stupid , that having that name meant so much to Donnelly now.

“You’re sorry?” Reese snarled, incredulous. “You’re _sorry_?”

Donnelly brought his hands out, held them open in front of him. “I didn’t know …”

“You’re fucking _sorry_?” Reese screamed. He came off the bench and threw a roundhouse punch in the same fluid motion. His fist caught Donnelly on the side of his jaw and knocked him sideways. He staggered, but managed to stay up. Reese was on him before he recovered. The Man grabbed him by his jacket, held tight with one hand and hit him three more times with the other before he managed to back away.

As he tried to retreat, Reese grabbed his wrist and twisted it, hard. With his free hand this time he worked Donnelly’s body, first the ribs, then the kidneys.

None of it hurt, not even when Donnelly felt the blood dripping down his chin. Not even when he heard his wrist snap, when he felt his shoulder jerk out of its socket.

He couldn’t stop himself from swinging back anyhow, with the arm that still worked. He got in one good jab, connected squarely with Reese’s sculpted jaw, snapped his head back. But the man barely flinched. He turned, his eyes blazing with rage, and came at him again.

The third time he closed on Donnelly, the Man got his arm around his neck and choked him.

Donnelly pounded Reese’s ribs as hard as he could until the world went black.

And then he was standing six feet away again. The blood was gone. His suit was clean.

Reese pause, startled. His glared grew ever more ferocious. Then he charged again. This time he threw Donnelly down and fell on him. They wrestled for a minute on the grass, and then he was choking him out again, this time with both hands.

Again the world went black, and again it reset itself.

“Who _are_ you?” Reese demanded, furious.

“I’m dead,” Donnelly said.

“You’re not dead enough.” The Man came at him again.

Donnelly threw an uppercut that got through mostly by chance, caught the Man full on the jaw, and dropped him.

John rolled to his feet, his hands in fists just in front of his hips, ready to fend off the next attack.

Donnelly raised his hands again. “We can do this all day, John. I’m willing, if it will help you somehow. But you can’t hurt me. I’m already dead.”

The Man froze. His eyes filled with furious tears. His whole body shook with rage.

Donnelly wished himself into a clean suit again and waited.

After perhaps two minutes, Reese opened his hands and straightened up slowly. “You’re dead.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m … ?”

“Unconscious.”

“For now.” Reese shook his head. The tension left his body. “Kara. Damn it. Should have shot her when I had the chance.”

“Honestly, I kinda wish you had.”

John nodded. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to get you killed, too.”

“It’s okay. It’s a lot better than I thought it would be.”

“What is this place?”

Donnelly shrugged. “Heaven, I suppose. Not what I expected.”

“No harps and white wings?”

“No.” **_And the best sex I ever had in my life. In my death?_**

The Man’s expression never changed. Evidently being unconscious didn’t confer the same thought-sharing powers as death did. “Can I buy you a drink?” he offered.

Reese wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He was still dirty, torn, bleeding. “I could use a beer,” he allowed.

The next instant he was in an immaculate white shirt and new black jacket, next to Donnelly in a quiet Irish pub, with a pint of Guinness in his hand.

He blinked. “Damn.”

“Yeah. Still figuring out the details myself,” Donnelly said. He sipped his stout.  He gestured, and they sat on barstools. “I really am sorry, John. If I’d known what you were doing, why you were doing it …”

“You know now?”

“I know about the Numbers, the Machine. And Harold.”

Reese flinched. “You know about Harold?”

“I can’t hurt him now, John. I’m dead, remember?”

The Man relaxed, took a long swing of his beer. “I guess so. Just habit, protecting him, you know?”

“You love him.”

The steel blue eyes fixed on him, angry for a moment, then softening. “I owe him my life.”

“I met Ingram. His old partner …”

“I know about Ingram,” John snarled.

“He watches over him. And you.”

“He’s not doing a very good job of it.”

Donnelly shook his head. “He can’t help. We can’t change anything down there. We can just watch.”

A dangerous gleam appeared in those bright eyes. “You like to watch, Donnelly?”

“John …”

“You liked watching me and Carter, didn’t you?”

“Could you two have flirted any more?”

“We _could_ have.” Reese looked around. “How long will I be here?”

“I don’t know. Until you wake up back there.” Donnelly sighed. “I’m sorry, John. I’m afraid she’s taken you captive. The psycho bitch.”

“Stanton. I know.” He shrugged. “Like I said, should have shot her when I had the chance.”

“You won’t remember any of this. That you were here, that I spoke to you. None of it.”

The steel blue eyes studied him again. There was something in them that made Donnelly’s breath hitch. “So nothing I do here matters.”

“No.”

“And I won’t remember it?”

“No.”

“Will you?”

Donnelly frowned. “I suppose so.”

“Take me back to RIkers.”

“What?”

Reese grabbed his wrist, hard. “That thing you did, that brought us here. Do it again. Take me back to Rikers. To the interrogation room.”

“Why?”

“Do it now.”

They were there, in the interrogation room where Reese and Carter had spent so much time. It was silent; in his mind, Donnelly has stipulated that they be entirely alone. Still, the one-way glass made him a little nervous. “Okay, we’re here. Now what?”

Reese looked down at his immaculate suit. “Jumpsuit.”

“What?”

“Put me in the jumpsuit. Hurry up. We may not have much time.”

Donnelly pursed his lips. “Don’t take this the wrong way, John, but orange really isn’t the best color on you.”

The Man’s hand shot out; he grabbed Donnelly by the collar, shook him hard. “I _need_ this, Donnelly.”

“What do you need?”

“I need you to do exactly what you wanted to do when you were alive”

“Catch you and throw you behind bars forever?”

“Don’t make me spell this out for you, Donnelly.” There was something needful in those blue eyes now.

“John, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Reese looked away, toward the mirrored window, and then back. “Fine. I need you to throw me down on this table and fuck me in the ass. I need you to pound me, and I need you to do it _now_.”

Donnelly stared at him. “ _Why_?”

The hand on his shirt tightened even more. “Because Stanton has me, back there.”

“But what’s that got to do with …”

John yanked him very close, so that their noses nearly touched. “Is this why you’re divorced, Donnelly? Did your ex get tired of trying to talk you into having sex?”

Donnelly grabbed his wrist. “That’s none of your damn business!”

Reese kissed him. It was hard, brutal, and it shot excitement through Donnelly’s body like lightning. “Just do it, Donnelly. _Please_.”

He shook himself loose, stepped back. “All right. Fine.”

“The jumpsuit,” John insisted. He plucked at his jacket.

“Do it yourself.”

“What?”

“Just … wish it,” Donnelly said. “Want it. Picture it. It’s easy.”

“I can’t …”

“Try.”

Reese closed his eyes, opened them — and he was dressed in orange. He shook his head sharply, and Donnelly recognized that he was shaking off the vertigo it caused. But he’d done it. “Told you so.”

John nodded. “Good, good,” he said quickly. He unzipped the top of the jumpsuit and pulled his arms out, pushed it down to let the top hang from his waist. Beneath he wore a sleeveless t-shirt that had once been white. His bare arms rippled with muscles and tension. “Shackles,” he demanded.

“John …”

“I know. Do it myself.” He stood next to the table, spread his feet until they were against two of the table’s legs. Then he bent from the waist and lay face-first on the shiny black surface. He stretched his arms over his head, put his hands together.

The shackles appeared.

The cuffs went around Reese’s outstretched hands. The short chain between them linked to a longer chain that went over the far side of the table and then back under to join the chain between his feet. Each of his feet was shackled to a leg of the table, holding them in the spread position he’d assumed. The Man in the Suit was bent over, chained, helpless.

Except for his voice. “Do it,” he said urgently.

Donnelly stood up straighter. He walked slowly around the table, in a complete circle, studying the set-up. His cock stirred, naturally, at the sight of his long-sought prey chained up so conveniently, entirely at his mercy. The Man twitched on the table, tugged at his chains, but his ability to move was very limited. He was entirely Donnelly’s.

John lifted his head — he could lift it barely far enough to turn it from one side to the other — and glared at Donnelly. “Do it,” he said again, and there was a new tone of pleading under the command.

“I can’t do rape, John,” Donnelly said calmly, continuing his measured circling of the prisoner. “And the whole idea of raping a prisoner in custody — it’s just not me. You know better.”

Reese yanked at his chains in frustration. “Damn it, Donnelly …”

Donnelly smiled tightly. He put his hand on John’s back, then leaned down and put his face right next to his. “That being said, John, I most certainly can do _ravishment_. And I’d be more than happy to. Just tell me one thing first. What would Harold say, if he knew about the lovely offer you’ve made me here?”

John froze, glaring. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “Harold knows,” he said. “He knows me.”

“Does he?”

“I love him,” Reese admitted. He turned his head away. Donnelly straightened up, but kept his hand on his back. “But I need … sometimes I need …”

Donnelly stroked his fingers down John’s spine, from his hairline to the waistline of the jumpsuit. “What do you need, John?” he asked firmly.

“To be … taken. Hard. To be pounded.”

“And he doesn’t mind?”

The Man clenched his teeth, closed his eyes again. “He likes to watch.”

Donnelly teased the tail of the t-shirt loose and put his hand under it. He ran it upward again, along John’s spine on his bare skin. He trembled at the touch, trembled again when the hand stopped moving. “Does he, now?” He glanced up at the surveillance camera in the corner. “Maybe we should make him a tape.”

Reese muttered something against his teeth.

Donnelly leaned over him again. He let his thigh rest against Reese’s as he did so. “What was that, John?”

The prison sighed violently. “Yes. I said yes. Whatever you want. Just do it.”

“Good.” Calmly, slowly, Donnelly walked over to the camera. He was very aware of the sound of his footsteps in the quiet room. He clicked on the camera. The red light glowed menacingly, He took his time adjusting the focus. When he looked back toward the table, Reese was glaring at him again. There was desperation in his eyes.

His body was covered with a thin sheet of sweat. Every minute that Donnelly delayed, he knew, was a sweet torture for his captive. He didn’t hurry.

Donnelly’s cock ached against the zipper of his suit pants. He walked behind Reese again, moved close enough to press his erection against the back of his thigh. Then he leaned forward again, put his chest against Reese’ back and his mouth against his ear. “Just so we’re clear,” he said very quietly, “if you want to stop, if you want those chains gone, all you have to do is wish it. Just like with the jumpsuit. Just think and they’re gone. Got it?”

Reese yanked at the chains again, rattled them violently. “Don’t fuck this up, Donnelly. I need this.”

Chuckling darkly, Donnelly straightened up. He grabbed the neckline of the t-shirt with both hands and ripped it apart. John’s back was bare to his gaze, to his touch. He paused for one instant; the Man had a horrible number of scars, old and new. Then he put both of his hands on John’s ribs and held him tightly against the table while he ground his still-clothed cock against him. “Have it your way.”

The perspiration made the skin slick. He ran one hand up, laced it roughly through John’s short dark hair. The other hand went lower, dipping under the waistband of the jumpsuit, just touching the top of the crack in his ass.

“Do it,” Reese moaned. “Just do it.”

“Now, see, John, you’re not understanding the situation you’re in.” Donnelly slipped his hand between John’s body and the table top and undid the snap of the jumpsuit. He worked the zipper down a bit, but the Man was chained too tightly to give him much room. He withdrew his hand, grabbed the sides of the ugly orange jumpsuit at Reese’s hips and yanked downward. The jumpsuit fell as far down as Reese’s shackled legs would allow.

Donnelly considered the grayish prison-issue briefs that still covered the Man’s sharply-muscled ass. He rested his hand on the hard curve, hooked his fingertips through the waistband. “You think you’re still in charge here,” he continued slowly. “But the fact of the matter is, you’re chained to the table. “ He removed his hand, moved slowly to the far side of the table, and bent again to brush his lips against John’s stubbled cheek. “So I’ll be the one deciding if you get fucked, and when, and how hard, and how fast. Understand?”

Reese flailed against the chains again, muttering obscenities against the back of his teeth. Donnelly smiled. This was much too enjoyable. He’d been more than willing to play John’s game, both because the Man genuine seemed to need it and because Nick felt like he owed it to him, somehow, but he hadn’t expected to be quite this into it. But this was definitely turning into what the punks at the Bureau called ‘sexy fun time’.

He almost laughed out loud at the thought. He turned his back to Reese quickly and choked the sound back. Don’t fuck this up, Donnelly, Reese had said. He’d to his best to get it right.

Donnelly turned back to the table and leaned close to Reese face again. He ran his hand through the man’s short, perfect hair, across the few strands of gray. He leaned closer and pressed his lips against John’s temple. Reese yanked at his handcuffs violently. Donnelly chuckled softly and continued to stroke his hair. He kissed him again, on his eyebrow, his cheekbone, the tip of his ear. Light, flirty little kisses that absolutely infuriated the Man. That he was helpless to stop.

He kissed the hollow at the corner of his mouth, and Reese snapped his teeth at him.

Donnelly did let himself laugh then, but quietly, darkly. “So impatient,” he teased, his voice low. “Oh, I would love to keep you like this all night.”

Reese raised his head and slammed it down on the table.

Donnelly tightened his hand on John’s hair so he couldn’t do that again. “All right,” he allowed. “All right. But only because I’m a really nice guy. Otherwise I could make this a very _long_ process.”

He put his hand on Reese’s shoulder and kept it there while he strolled back around the table again. The muscles kept jumping erratically; his prisoner was actually twitching with anticipation. Donnelly’s cock began to leak within his own pants.

He stopped and stood squarely behind Reese again. He leaned forward, let his erection rest along the crack in his ass. Through the briefs and through his suit, the heat spread. Reese lurched back, pressing even tighter against him. “Shhhh,” Donnelly said. He put both hands on Reese’ sides, over his ribs, then drew them downward to his hips. He simply held him there for a moment, feeling the contact, the heat. Then he grabbed the waistband of the briefs and tore them in half.

They fell away, vanished, and Reese’s ass was bare, exposed, unprotected and magnificently muscled. He tensed his buns, forming creases on each side. Donnelly grabbed each cheek and kneaded them firmly. He reached lower, working the top of the thighs. Then his hands slid back up. He put his fingers in the crease and pulled the ass cheek apart to reveal John’s opening.

Reese groaned, not in protest.

He ran a single finger down the crease, from the base of Reese’s spine all the way down to his balls. For the first time he realized how tightly John was pressed against the edge of the table: His balls were over the edge, but his cock was pressed flat between the table top and his own body. It had to hurt, Donnelly thought. His own cock wasn’t happy with just the pressure of his own clothes. But it was what John had chosen.

He cupped the balls, caressed them until John squirmed within the tight confines of his bonds. The Man’s thighs quivered, as if he wanted to close them, to stop the stimulation, but with his feet shackled to the table legs he couldn’t.

Donnelly continued to fondle them slowly. He could feel the pain and pleasure it caused John. He didn’t hurry.

He disregarded the growls and whimpers that came from his prisoner. When he was damn good and ready, he moved his other hand along the crack again. With the tip of his finger, he found John’s opening.

Reese froze as he entered him, his whole body tense, ready.

**_Lube_** , Donnelly thought calmly, and it was there. He pressed the finger deeper.

Reese thrashed again, just once. The lube surprised him, Donnelly thought. He wanted it rougher, harder. Crueler. He’d picked the wrong man for that.

John relaxed. Donnelly shoved his finger deeper, added a second one, also easily lubed. **_Thanks, Nathan,_** he thought warmly as he began to work them slowly, gently in and out.

_Always glad to share a perversion_ , the message came back immediately.

Donnelly did laugh out loud then.

“Something funny?” Reese snarled.

“Hmmm.” Donnelly continued to work his fingers in and out, leisurely, casual. He could feel John tensing, furious, desperate. He liked it. “Just wondering. All those hours you were in here with Carter. Was this what you were thinking about?”

Reese growled and didn’t answer.

Nick withdrew his fingers until just the tips remained inside his ass. “Well? he insisted. “Was it?”

John picked up his head and slammed it against the table again.

Donnelly introduced a third finger to his opening, but kept only the tips inside, unmoving. “John. Tell me. Was this what you wanted?”

Reese took a deep frantic breath. “Yes,” he finally said, very softly. “Yes, yes. Please.”

“There.” Donnelly slid the fingers into him, all three, slow but very deep. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Please.”

He flexed his fingers until the middle one found the soft little nub that made Reese thrash again. “There?”

“Donnelly …”

“Shhh.” He stroked, still slowly, still deeply. He could feel Reese’s body coiling with aroused tension. **_What else can I do to you, John?_**

_Try cold_ , Nathan suggested.

**_Are you watching?_ **

_ Hell yes I’m watching. Do you mind?  _

Donnelly groaned. His cock suddenly wouldn’t tolerate its confinement any more. He released John’s balls and unzipped his pants, pulled his erection free through the opening.

Reese groaned happily at the sound, but Donnelly wasn’t quite ready to give him what he wanted. Instead he withdrew his fingers to the tips again. When he thrust in again, his fingers were very cold.

John screamed in surprised and pleasure. His hips pumped against the table, moving that inch or two that his chains allowed, grinding his own tortured cock against the tabletop. Donnelly doubted that he could stop even if he wanted to. He moaned in agony and pleasure.

“Do it,” Reese pleaded. It sounded like he was just about out of words, like it was hard work to speak.

He continued to work the cold fingers. “You want me to fuck you, John?”

The Man shuddered.

“John?” The fingers paused again. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yesssss.”

“Now?”

“Yes. Damn it, yes!”

Donnelly withdrew his hands, stepped closer, pressed the head of his cock against John’s ass. He wasn’t going to be able to tease him much more; his balls ached for release, and his cock was leaking in anticipation. He was going to explode, and probably soon. But not before he’d given John what he’d asked for.

Reese pressed back, that scant inch of movement he had. Donnelly grabbed his hips and held him, but he pressed inside at the same time. He advanced slowly, steadily. He could feel John stretch around him, and he knew — remembered — exactly how the burn added to the pleasure. When he was fully seated, with his balls pressed against John’s, he stopped again. “Like this?” he inquired.

The quaver of his own voice gave away his excitement, but he doubted Reese was in any condition to notice.

The Man moved, squirmed, but the chains kept him from thrusting with any power.

“Be still,” Donnelly said. He tightened his hands on his hips. Forcing him to be still.

“Now,” John said, his voice a raw whisper. “Please, now.”

Donnelly withdrew, thrust again. Stopped again.

Reese lifted his head and seemed to gather himself. “Donnelly, I swear to God, if Stanton wakes me up before you finish this, I will find your grave and piss on it every day for the rest of my life!”

“Ah, the Man is back.” Donnelly laughed softly. But he was as done with the game as Reese was. He moved them, withdrawing, thrusting . He didn’t stop this time. He built a rhythm, fast, and Reese met him as well as he could on every stroke.

He fucked him hard and deep, exactly as requested. John grunted with every stroke, moaned every time he withdrew. It sounded like he was satisfied with the progress. Donnelly went harder, faster. The table began to scrape on the floor, the legs sliding a fraction of an inch with every slamming thrust.

Pounding. It was what Reese had asked for. It was what he got.

Donnelly felt his body coiling toward climax. The countdown started and could not be stopped. Not ten thrusts left. Maybe not five. He used what was left of his conscious mind to check on his partner’s progress …

… realized that Reese could not possible come in that position, that it would be agony …

… that he’d never planned to anyhow, that this was punishment for John as much as pleasure …

… you got the wrong guy, John, but I’ll take care of you …

Two, one, and then he was pounding and his whole body was trying to explode inside of Reese …

John lifted his head and screamed.

Before the sound ended, before Donnelly had finished ejaculating, they were in Donnelly’s bed, naked, on their sides. The shackles were gone. Reese had his back against Donnelly’s chest. Nick’s cock was still buried in his ass. But now he could get his hand around, get a hold of John’s cock and pump it, hard, even while he was still moving against his ass.

Reese came then, shuddering as he spent over Donnelly’s hand and his own belly and the bed. He came hard and long, and then he simply collapsed.

Donnelly held him, kissed his ear and his hair, while both of them slowly relaxed. “All right?” he finally said.

“Perfect,” Reese answered. He wrapped his arms over Donnelly’s.

For a long time they were silent and still. Finally, Reese said, “Never figured you for a cuddler, Donnelly.”

“Fuck you,” Nick answered easily. “I’ve had a bitch of a day, too, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I never meant to get you killed.”

“Not your fault.”

“It is, though. All the choices I made, that’s what put you there. If I’d shot her when I was supposed to …”

“If I hadn’t come and arrested you again,” Donnelly reminded him. “We all made choices that put us there. I’m damn sorry she’s got you. She seems …brutal.”

Reese shuddered. “That’s a good word for it.”

“Why this?” Donnelly asked. “Why did you need this?”

“To take the edge off.” Reese shifted a little, but didn’t try to leave Donnelly’s arms. “It’s been a long time.”

“But you won’t remember. When you go back.”

“No. But maybe my body will. If I can stay relaxed, she can’t hurt me as much. If I’m not carrying all this sexual tension around, that’s one less tool she can use against me.”

“She’s that kind?”

“She’s all the kinds.” John lifted Donnelly’ hand and pressed a kiss against his palm. “I needed this. Thank you.”

“I wish I could do something more. I wish I could help you somehow.”

“For a dead guy, you just helped me a lot more than I expected.” Reese sighed. “I’m going to miss you hunting me. You were damn good at it.”

“For all the good it did me. If I wasn’t dead, I’d still hunt you. And her, now. Maybe I could get you away from her.” Donnelly shrugged. “Of course, I wouldn’t know what I know now, so I’d just throw your ass back in jail.”

“I’d much rather be in your custody than in Kara’s.”

They were quiet again.

“Back there, in the interrogation room …” Donnelly finally said. “You know I’d never really …”

“I know,” Reese said quickly. “But it was a damn good fantasy.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“And you played it very well.”

“I didn’t think that one would trip my triggers,” Donnelly admitted. “But that was definitely …”

Reese was gone.

 ***

_The urgent voice on the phone. The headlights coming at him. The impact, the crunching sound, the world rolling over and over and everything inside the car trying to tear his body to shreds …_

_… the footsteps, the casual click of heels on bricks, and the woman, her dark hair falling around her face, and the gun. Donnelly looking up at her, trying to speak, to ask for help, to ask who she was. But no time, no words. One shot, and a grunt. A second shot, a second grunt …_

Donnelly shook his head. **_Again._**

_The urgent voice on the phone. The headlights coming at him. The impact, the crunching sound, the world rolling over and over and everything inside the car trying to tear his body to shreds …_

“What are you doing, Nick?”

Donnelly jumped. Nathan was beside him. He had on a polo shirt, khakis. He was barefoot. “Nathan.”

“This isn’t good, Nick. Replaying this? It’s not good for you.”

Donnelly shook his head and ran it again.

_… the footsteps, the casual click of heels on bricks, and the woman, her dark hair falling around her face, and the gun. Donnelly looking up at her, trying to speak, to ask for help, to ask who she was. But no time, to words. One shot, and a grunt. A second shot, a second grunt …_

“I made a choice,” he said slowly.

“What?”

“I made a choice,” Donnelly repeated. “Right there. After the first shot. I wasn’t quite dead. Close, but not quite. I could have stayed. But it all seemed so … inevitable.”

“Sure. She shot you again.”

“I thought she’d take the head shot.”

Ingram cocked his head. “You lost me.”

“She’s a professional. She should have double-tapped. One in the chest, one in the head. So after the first shot, I was sure she’d take the head shot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“But she didn’t.” Donnelly ran the memory again. He and Ingram stood by the river, watching it happen.

_… the footsteps, the casual click of heels on bricks, and the woman, her dark hair falling around her face, and the gun._

“She didn’t take the head shot.”

“I don’t get what you’re after here, Nick.”

Donnelly turned to him. “I could have survived this. I _might_ have survived this, if I hadn’t given up.”

“Well, yeah, except for that whole being crushed in the crash part,” Ingram said. He gestured. “You were on your way out when she showed up.”

“Maybe.” Donnelly paced to the other side of the wreck and watched it again. “But I had a choice, Nathan. I could have stayed. I was dying. But I wasn’t dead. I could have stayed and fought.  I _chose_ to let go.”

“So what?”

“So I can go back.”

The words hung between them for a long time. Donnelly wasn’t asking. He didn’t need to ask. He knew. He _knew_. “And if I go back,” he continued, “I might be able to help them. To help John.”

Ingram watched the scene play again.

_… the impact, the crunching sound, the world rolling over and over and everything inside the car trying to tear his body to shreds …_

“If you go back,” he finally said, “you’re going to be in agony. And chances are really good that you’ll just die a minute later anyhow.”

“In which case I’ll be back before you miss me.”

“And even if you live … you won’t remember, Nick. Everything you know about your Man in the Suit, about the Machine, about Harold — it’ll all be gone. You won’t know any of it. It’ll be gone.”

“I won’t know you,” Donnelly realized.

“You won’t know me.”

He stared at the wrecked car again. “I was wrong, Nathan. I was wrong about John. And I was wrong to let go.”

“Are you getting this?” Ingram demanded. “If you go back, even if by some miracle you survive, _you won’t know you’re wrong_. You’ll still keep hunting him.”

“But that’s just the point,” Donnelly countered. “I _will_ keep hunting him. I will chase him to the ends of the earth. I will tear the city apart to get him back from Stanton. _I will find him_ , Nathan. If I survive this, I will find him. And save him.”

“And throw him in jail.”

“He’d much rather be in my custody than in hers.”

“Well, yeah.” Nathan smirked. “He likes your interrogation techniques. Can’t say as I blame him.”

“Nathan.”

Ingram sighed heavily. “I wish you wouldn’t do this. You’re just going to end up dead again.”

“Then I end up dead, and I come right back here to you. But I was _wrong_ , Nathan. If I live, I can help him. I _will_ help him. I have to take this chance. If I die, fine, I did the best I could. Then I’m fine, I can let it go.” He watched the wreck and the shooting again. “But I can’t live — or be dead — with myself, if I don’t try. If I don’t do the best I can.”

“Not enough that you’re great in bed,” Ingram said softly, “you gotta be a hero, too, huh?”

Donnelly looked at him. Those beautiful eyes. That beautiful mouth. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you, Nathan. When I get back …”

“I’ll look you up.”

“Promise?”

Ingram put his arms around him, pulled him close. “Go do what you have to do, Nick. I’ll be here.”

Donnelly kissed him. Just for a moment, he hesitated. He could be here, safe and happy with Ingram. Or he could be in that truck, crushed and broken and probably dying.

But there was that one chance …

Special Agent Nicholas Donnelly closed his eyes and shut out the light.

 ***

_ Stay still, Nick. Stay still. Stay still.  _

The voice was warm, rich and baritone. And loving. Donnelly had no idea whose voice it was. He’d never heard it before. But he knew he believed it. He knew it was terribly, terribly urgent that he stay absolutely still.

It was a matter of life and death.

The second shot fired, very close. He’d known somehow that there would be a second shot. The impact forced a gasp out of him. He held his breath, hoping she hadn’t noticed. She didn’t. He heard the steps move away, toward what had been the back seat of the car. She’s after the Man in the Suit, he realized. She doesn’t want me. I’m just collateral damage.

He kept his eyes open, his pupils fixed on the light on the front of the building next to the truck. He breathed very lightly, trying to keep his chest from moving. He could see the woman moving out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t look at him, didn’t check him.

She’d seemed like a professional, but she acted like a psycho.

She was intently focused on the Man in the Suit.

That might just save Donnelly’s life. If he survived, he could get him back.

Save his life and throw his ass in jail forever.

Everything was cold. Everything hurt.

He had some notion he’d been somewhere warm, safe. And there had been fantastic sex …

_ Stay still, Nick. Stay still. Stay still.  _

He stayed still. He lived.

 

**The End**

 


End file.
